


Thanksgiving with the Rossi's

by MrsFletcher



Series: Holidays with the Rossi's [1]
Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Black Friday, Family, Holidays, Thanksgiving
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-14
Updated: 2016-01-14
Packaged: 2018-05-13 23:06:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5720398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsFletcher/pseuds/MrsFletcher
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The BAU bunch spend Thanksgiving together at the Rossi Mansion in Maine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thanksgiving with the Rossi's

**Author's Note:**

> Told from the point of view of Penelope and Derek's daughter, Emma.

_Everything about Thanksgiving makes me happy: food, family, Oma sneaking me sweets when mom isn't looking. The only thing I don't like about this holiday is Black Friday shopping, it just doesn't make sense to me. I went with my mom and aunts once, and I refuse to ever go again._

 

        When we finally pulled up to Oma and Opa's house, we were greeted by their dogs, Rock and Libby. Dad gave each of them a treat and asked me to go get Opa. I ran as fast as I could up to the porch and burst through the door. He was standing in the foyer, waiting for me. "Emma! I've missed you," he said as he hugged me. "I think your grandmother is in the quilt room, why don't you go see if she needs some help." He walked out to help my parents with the luggage. I quietly made my way up the stairs to the second floor and walked down the long hallway, stopping at the open door. The quilt room was where my grandparents kept all their extra blankets, pillows, and where Oma did her quilting. It was a little dusty and smelled like mothballs, but it was my favorite rooms in their house. Oma was sitting on the floor, folding quilts and placing them in a bin labeled 'Autumn'.

       "Hey, need some help," I asked, standing in the doorway. She quickly turned around and smiled at me. “Look at you, you’re as tall as your mom! Not a very big accomplishment, but you’re gettin’ there. Oh, I’ve missed you!” She stood up and gave me a hug. I picked up one of the bins she had set aside for our visit and followed her into the hall. We went from room to room, replacing the autumn quilts with Thanksgiving ones. She had quilts for every season and holiday; even when they didn’t have guests, she changed them out. As we exited the last bedroom on the third floor, my mom called up to us, “Mom, Emma, come down here! They all just pulled up. We need help bringing in the groceries.”

 My dad, brother, and Opa walked past us with bags and bags of food. Both cars were full of things for dinner the next day. “How much food do we really need, Aaron,” Opa asked my uncle as he picked up four more bags.

“Mom gave me a list of what we needed. Here’s the question you should be asking: Why do we need ten pounds of sugar?” Uncle Aaron held up a sack of sugar and Aunt Emily laughed.

“Pies, cookies, cakes! She has three grand kids hon, and she only gets to see them a few times a year. Let her spoil them, that’s what grandparents do.” She took the sugar from him and handed it to Uncle Spencer.

      Once the cars were unloaded, we gathered in the living room so Aunt JJ could assign our cooking roles. My dad got babysitting duty, which meant he had to watch my brother and cousin for the majority of the day. For the first time, I was assigned a role. Oma and I were told to bake the pies, aka the best part of Thanksgiving. I was really excited to spend some time with her. We decided to start with the hardest pie to make, so we grabbed the apples and a couple of knives. She said that the kitchen was too crowded for us, outside was a better place to peel the apples. It was quiet out there, the only sounds you could hear were the leaves blowing around and the waves crashing against the rocky coast. The dogs sat at our feet waiting for us to drop something. “Watch how I peel this,” Oma said, holding an apple. She picked up the sharp knife and peeled it within seconds. “Your turn.”

“I’ll try.” I began to peel the apple, slipping up a few times. It took me longer than it took her, but she just smiled at me and said, “you’ll learn”. About twenty minutes later, all the apples were peeled and we only had to use half a box of bandages. I followed Oma into the kitchen and she got me started on the other pies while she finished the apple. After we stuck the first pie in the oven, time seemed to fly by. We talked about school, family friends, and anything else we could think of. By the time everyone had finished cooking, it was ten-thirty and we were exhausted; I decided to go to bed and just skip dinner.

      The next morning, I woke up to the smell of coffee and burnt toast. I went down to the kitchen and fixed myself a cup of tea, stopping to look out of the window. Oma and Opa were sitting on the back porch with the dogs. I stepped outside and sat on the porch swing quietly with them. The mornings in Maine were a lot cooler than Virginia mornings and I seemed to forget that every visit. Opa noticed I was shivering so he covered me with part of their blanket. We sipped our hot drinks and watched the sun rise over the foggy mountains. Once the sun was shining bright over the hills and the fog had lifted, we headed back in to wake the others.

“Up, up, up! We have a Christmas tree to drag out of storage and decorate! Come on,” Oma yelled, opening all the doors and turning lights on like a drill sergeant. Those years she spent in Quantico came in handy; it was tough to get my aunts and uncles up. Everyone groaned, wondering why the had to decorate for Christmas on Thanksgiving.

“Oma, why? Let me sleep, please,” my brother, Bryce, whined as he pulled the covers over his head.

“Because a little more than half of you are gonna spend tomorrow shopping instead of helping me decorate. I can’t do all of it by myself anymore.” She took the blanket off of him and placed it on the chair across the room so he’d have to get up.

      We eventually were able to wake them all and convince them that the perfect way to spend the morning was to hang up stockings, decorate, and untangle the thousands of lights my grandparents used to cover their house. I have no idea how Oma was able to make a few hours of boring work seem like a trip to the North Pole, but she did. At about four that afternoon, the twelve foot tall tree was brought out of storage and placed in the foyer. “We’ll drag out the ornaments tomorrow while you guys are shopping and put them on. I think it’s time to start warming up dinner.” My mom, Uncle Spencer, and Uncle Aaron made their way into the kitchen to help Opa.

     Aunt JJ and I unfolded the tablecloth and draped it over the dinner table. My cousin, Henry, and brother, Bryce, set the table carefully, making sure that the knives and spoons were on the right and the forks were on the left of each plate. Dad folded the napkins and placed them on the plates. Aunt Emily stuffed dried leaves and pine cones into a clear vase for the centerpiece. While we waited for the food, Oma popped in a DVD to keep us from getting bored. Watching ‘The Sound of Music’ was a tradition for my family; I loved to hear my mom and aunts try to mimic Julie Andrews. 

     Halfway through the movie, we heard Uncle Aaron yell from the dining room, “ Come on guys, time to eat”. My stomach growled when I saw all the food sitting on the table. Opa said grace and we sat down while my grandparents fixed plates for themselves. Once everyone started eating, the usual Thanksgiving dinner conversation began: political arguments, school, work. Towards the end of the meal, they started talking about the Black Friday sales and where they were going first.

“Emma is gonna have a blast, just like last year! Aren’t ya, Em,” Aunt JJ asked, looking all excited.

“Well…”

“Well, what?”

“I was thinking that it would be better for me to stay here and help Oma and Opa with the tree. I mean, I don’t really see the point of going.”

Mom joined in, ” But it's tradition!”

“You guys see it as saving two-hundred bucks on a five-hundred dollar phone, I see it as spending two-hundred dollars. I don’t have anything I need to buy this year anyway. I’d just get in the way.” I poked around at the pie crust on my plate. Uncle Spencer jabbed my side with his pointy elbow and frowned at me.

“Let the girl stay, she’s as stubborn as you, Penelope. We do need some help,” Opa winked at me.

     Mom just sighed and looked away from me. Dad stood and took his and Mom’s plates into the kitchen to clear them off. My uncles cleared the rest of the plates and started to wash dishes. My grandparents were the only people who weren’t upset with me for breaking a ‘tradition’. They sent me to bed early so that I wouldn’t have to deal with the disappointment that radiated off of the other family members. I was thankful for them.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
